


Christmas Charity

by penstrikesmidnight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Christmas, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hogwarts Seventh Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: Hermione runs into Draco in Hogsmeade and accidentally gets herself invited to the Malfoy Manor for Christmas...as his girlfriend.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 161





	Christmas Charity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starofbright](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofbright/gifts).



> Happy birthday sunni!! 
> 
> Look, I am one entire fool, because I was feeling guilty for not getting you anything and then I realized at eight last night that I am a whole-ass fic writer who knows enough about Harry Potter to write you something for your OTP and then proceeded to bust out 6k in six hours. Hope you enjoy this fluffy piece!

Hermione is the last one of her group to leave The Three Broomsticks. “Boys,” she huffs to herself as she washes her hands. Couldn’t even be bothered to wait for her while she peed. She wrangles her hair into a messy, curly bun, done with having it in her face, then puts on her gloves and adjusts her scarf around her neck. It’s not snowing anymore, but a chill has lingered in the air this close to Christmas.

The Three Broomsticks is slowly emptying for the night. Hermione is making her way toward the door when she sees Draco Malfoy in the corner, a sharp, pinched expression on his face as he stares politely at a pretty, pale woman who is most definitely related to him.

“Mother, I’m not even eighteen yet. Aren’t you being just a little...rash, about this?” Hermione hears Draco say as she winds around their table. She stops abruptly as a family starts leaving their booth in front of her. She holds her breath, hoping not to draw attention to herself.

Draco’s mother speaks next. “Nonsense, it’s never too early to start finding someone to join the family! I knew I was going to marry your father when we were much younger than you are now! We’ve been very lenient with you so far, Draco, but it is time for you to consider finding a proper spouse to continue on the Malfoy legacy by your side.”

“Mother, please,” Draco says, his voice just a little desperate. Hermione swallows, silently urging the mother in front of her to _pick up her crying toddler_ so Hermione could pass them. She darts another glance to Draco’s table. “I promise I’m fine. Look, I’m dating someone already…”

“Oh?” Narcissa’s voice tilts up in what Hermione is sure is intense interest. “This is the first I’m hearing of this! Who is the girl? Someone smart I hope? From a good family? Is she a Slytherin?”

Hermione knows she should leave. That she shouldn’t hover any longer, that this is going to get her into so much trouble. But Draco looks so resigned, so...defeated. She didn’t like it one bit. She turns to the table fully, swallowing as his icy gray eyes meet hers, widening in surprise. They have a small, silent conversation of whether or not this is actually going to happen and then Hermione says, “Oh! Draco! I didn’t realize you were coming into Hogsmeade today.”

She approaches the table with a wide, forced smile, trying to tell Draco to act normal with her eyes. He gives her a forced smile in return before turning to his mother. “This is Hermione Granger, Mother. Top of the class. My…girlfriend.”

Wait. Hermione looks over at him, shocked, watching as he scoots further into his booth to make room for her. This was _not_ what she had thought would happen. She had just wanted to help him out of a particularly uncomfortable situation, get him to come back with her to the castle, not get dragged into this mess herself.

True, they had had a few conversations since seventh year started. Actually, they’d been somewhat less hostile toward each other since they’d been foisted upon each other on random assignments as Prefect in fifth year, and now, as Head Boy and Head Girl. Draco was kind of funny, in a very uppity, snippy kind of way. He also wasn’t unattractive.

Actually, come to think about it, they would be the perfect couple. Prom king and queen in the Muggle world. She feels her cheeks heat up, so she tucks her chin deeper into her scarf, scooting into the booth. She swallows when she feels the heat of Draco’s leg against hers.

“Well,” Narcissa says, still trying to recover her composure. “Have you been seeing each other for long?”

“No,” they both answer at the same time. Hermione breathes a sigh of relief. At least they were on the same page about that.

She allows Draco to take the lead on the conversation. “We actually just made it official. We weren’t going to tell anyone until after Christmas. Until we knew it was going to work out.”

“Well,” Narcissa says, her smile now softer, realer, “of course you’ll have to join us for Christmas!”

“Mother!” Draco says, appalled. Hermione reaches out, squeezing Draco’s thigh hard.

She smiles at Narcissa. “Oh, I couldn’t impose. I have some projects that I am doing with Flitwick and McGonagall over the break…”

“But darling, surely you won’t be working on Christmas Eve and Christmas. You can just stay overnight. It would be lovely to get to know you better!” Narcissa begins gathering her things, as if that settled the situation. Hermione glares over at Draco when Narcissa isn’t looking, but he just shrugs helplessly. “Now, I must be going and you two should get back to school before curfew. I cannot wait to speak with you more, dear.”

With that Narcissa glides out of the room. Hermione sits there, staring at the broomsticks above the door, wondering how in the world she gets herself into these types of situations.

“Well. Thanks for that, Granger.”

Hermione blinks, then turns her fierce gaze to Draco. She watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, and she feels a smug satisfaction that he’s intimidated by her glare. “You idiot! What would ever make you think to introduce me to your mother as your girlfriend? Why didn’t you just come back to Hogwarts with me?”

Draco presses his lips together. “Because then I’d still have the little problem of my mother breathing down my neck to find a nice girl to settle down with. Look, it’ll be fine. You and I will go to Malfoy Manor for dinner on Christmas Eve. We can tour the library or something so we do not have to make small talk with my father. You like libraries, don’t you?” Hermione rolls her eyes as Draco chuckles. “Then, we’ll open presents in the morning and you can leave after that.”

“And we have to act like we’re dating,” Hermione says skeptically.

Draco raises his eyebrows. “Please, Granger, I am sure you can survive twenty-four hours. Better than trying to pretend to date Potter, that’s for sure.”

She doesn’t know if it’s the disdain in Draco’s voice, or the vicious scowl on his face, but Hermione can’t help but choke out a laugh. It catches Draco by surprise, if the unguarded look on his face is any indication. “Okay, deal. But just for Christmas.”

By the time she stops laughing, Draco’s composure is restored. “Deal,” he says. She doesn’t know why that challenge makes her heart race. She’s just doing him a favor. Christmas charity. She can survive one night at Malfoy Manor.

***

At six o’clock on Christmas Eve, Hermione meets Draco at the fireplace off the Entrance Hall. “Ready to meet your future in-laws?” Draco jokes, holding out a pouch of Floo Powder. “I talked to them more about you. They should be…manageable. Just, don’t be too offended by their outdated outlooks.”

“Ah, Draco, it wasn’t very long ago that I remember _your_ outdated views on the world. If I can stand you calling me Mudblood for so long, I think I can survive your parents throwing veiled insults in my direction.”

Hermione is delighted to see Draco’s face turn a dark pink. “Look, Granger, I apologize for that. It was…a long time ago. I was a dumb kid…”

Hermione laughs. “Oh, the great Draco Malfoy apologizing to me? I’m honored.”

Draco glares at her. “Maybe I take it back.”

“Nope,” Hermione says, throwing the Floo Powder into the fireplace. She doesn’t look back as she says, “Malfoy Manor,” in a clear, strong voice, tucking her elbows in tight against her ribs as she’s whisked to his home.

She lands in a large, open, deserted kitchen. She steps out of the fireplace, gingerly dusting herself off and wrangling her hair back into some semblance of normal as she admires the room she has landed herself in. It is sleek and antiquated, beautiful and fascinating. She hardly has time to take in anything other than the marble countertops next to a large brick oven before the tell-tale green flames spit out one Draco Malfoy. Hermione is a little jealous of how composed he still looks, even after coming out of the fireplace. 

“Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” Draco announces in a sardonic voice. “The place I will one day inherit, with you if my parents had any say.”

“If it’s that nice, I would marry you for your house,” Hermione says, craning her neck to peer out of an open doorway that leads down a hall. She can’t see much else so she reins herself in, looking at Draco expectantly.

He chuckles softly. “I see you want a tour.”

“Yes please, especially if I’m going to be living here one day.” She smiles smugly when Draco turns his embarrassed expression away from her. 

She finds it odd that there seem to be so few people out and about. “Oh, the house-elves are told to stay as scarce as possible,” Draco answers her question after leading her out of the kitchen, down a hall into a wide entrance hall. “They’re all around, when you know what you’re looking for. My mother tends to stay in the sitting room off to the left, here, and my father has a study in his suite of rooms that he holes himself up in when he is not at work. And I know, I know, house-elves deserve all the rights we wizards do. Fight that battle after you’re familiar with my parents.”

“Fine,” Hermione concedes, glancing up at the breathtaking, vaulted ceiling, then admiring the large staircase. She peeks into a doorless room where a massive Christmas tree has been placed, lights twinkling merrily. “But don’t think it’ll be the last I say on the subject. Everything is beautiful.”

And empty. Sure, there are decorations, ancient, beautiful things that probably cost fortunes, but Hermione has yet to see anything that resembles family pride, besides the big tapestry with the Malfoy crest at the top of the stairs.

Draco shrugs. “Too big for three, really. Now, let’s show you up to your room.”

Hermione follows Draco up the stairs. “You’ll be across from me, at the end of the hall.”

He opens the door, and Hermione steps into a room as big as the Gryffindor common room. It is also fairly void of decoration, other than the huge bed, and the chest of drawers she doesn’t plan on using for such a short stay. She drops her overnight bag down by the bed, getting a glimpse into the nice, surprisingly modern bathroom. “Wow.”

“Yes,” Draco says, his voice droll, “welcome to life at the Malfoy Manor. Now, dinner will start at six thirty on the dot. I’ll never hear the end of it if we arrive late.”

Hermione pads after Draco down the hall. He stops abruptly, Hermione almost bumping into him. “This is the library. We’ll stop by after dinner.”

Hermione nods, glancing at the pretty wooden door. She kind of wants to go in right then, but she knows they have other, more important things to do.

Like convince Draco’s parents that the two of them are actually in love.

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth as she considers how to do that. She doesn’t really think she has to act much different than she normally would. She cares enough about Draco, at this point, to consider him a friend. She’ll just have to pretend he’s a very good friend. She can try it out.

The dining room is as elegant as every other place in the Manor, wood-paneled with a long, heavy oak table in the center and the same dark, brooding landscapes that decorated the rest of the house. 

As Hermione takes in the room, Narcissa stands up. “Welcome home, Draco. Happy to have you, Hermione. We’ll be having a ham tonight, I hope that is to your liking.”

Hermione blinks herself back into the conversation. “Oh, yes, that sounds delightful. Thank you for having me on such short notice.”

Narcissa laughs, waving a hand in the air. “Oh, nonsense, nonsense, child. You’re more than welcome here.”

“Mother loves entertaining guests,” Draco says, almost conspiratorially, his icy eyes alight with mirth. Swallowing, Hermione smiles back at him, trying not to get lost in the surprisingly open expression on Draco’s face.

“I’m sure she’s very good at it.”

Draco leads Hermione around the table. He pulls out a chair, then waits patiently as Hermione realizes that he had done it for her. She doesn’t know why that, of all things, makes heat rise to her cheeks, but she takes a few deep breaths, willing her face to go back to normal before Draco sees it.

Lucius comes in not long after. He is a tall, straight-backed man, just as unnerving as every time she had seen him at the castle on official business. He gives her a cold smile, which she returns with as much warmth as she can muster. “Ah, Miss Granger. How delighted we are to have you here.”

Where Narcissa’s demeanor was friendly in a distant, curious way, Lucius’s was cold as the arctic tundra in winter. It didn’t put Hermione off; rather, she was quite surprised to find that it was a similar pretense as the one Draco put on when feigning disinterest in something or another.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Hermione says, watching as the house-elves served their food. She glances at Draco, but all he does is cock an eyebrow at her before turning to his food.

“Do you normally spend Christmas at the school? Away from your family?” Lucius asks as the meal begins. 

“Usually I spend Christmas with Ron and Harry. Sometimes at the school, but we venture to the Burrow every now and again.”

Lucius’s smirk grows wider. “Ah, the Weasleys. Tell me, how is their family getting along?”

Before Hermione can retort, Draco cuts into the conversation. “Hermione is staying at the castle this year alone to work on some projects with McGonagall and Flitwick, isn’t that right?”

Hermione blinks, thrown by the sudden change of conversation. Lucius also pauses, as if taken off-guard as well. “Yes, that’s right,” Hermione finally says. “We’re working on some of the more advanced nonverbal spells. I wanted to start trying my hand at dual casting.”

Her statement is met by silence around the table. Both Lucius and Narcissa are staring at her, and Draco has a self-satisfied smile on his face. Hermione ducks her head, digging into her food, shoveling it into her mouth without really looking so she doesn’t have to answer the next question that will be asked of her.

“Draco, maybe you should take a leaf out of Miss Granger’s book? It seems she knows something about ambition.”

Draco hunches his shoulders, ever so slightly. Probably no one else noticed it at the table but Hermione, and just the small action made her stomach clench. She hadn’t meant to overshine Draco or bring up old wounds. She had just answered a simple question.

“Hermione is a very ambitious girl,” Draco finally says, clearing his throat, his voice still as droll as usual, as if the barbed remark had had no effect on him. “Top of the class for a reason.”

The rest of the meal is awkwardly spent with Hermione listing her achievements in a way that wouldn’t make Draco look bad, and bracing herself for the inevitable snide remark from Lucius. She almost wished she had to declare her undying love for Draco instead of walk through this minefield of passive aggressive remarks. Narcissa was mum on everything. Now, Hermione could see how Draco had learned his behavior. Now, she could appreciate the efforts he had been making since fifth year to change himself into someone better. Someone who Hermione actually admired.

As soon as they can excuse themselves, Draco does so. “Hermione wanted to see the library before we turned in tonight,” he says with a winning smile toward his parents, the one he uses to suck up to the Professors at school. Before she or his parents can say anything, Draco is tugging on her hand, pulling her out of the dining room and back up the stairs.

“Well,” Hermione says, “that went as well as I expected.”

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Draco says, rolling his eyes. He drops her hand. “Whenever I have a friend at dinner, my father wants to assess them, make sure I’m the superior person. Your situation is even worse.”

“You mean it would be,” Hermione says as Draco stops to face her in front of the library doors. He has a small, confused frown on his face, and Hermione has the sudden urge to reach out, press her thumb against the creases on his forehead. She clarifies, “If we were dating, my situation would be worse.”

Draco lets out a huff. “It’s always semantics with you.”

“It’s how I keep people on their toes.”

Draco smiles a real smile as he pushes open the door they’re standing in front of.

The room is huge, filled to the brim with shelves, books, and space enough to study. Draco was right; she did love it.

She walked into the room in awe, spinning in a slow circle to take in as much as she could. “This is my favorite place in the house.”

“I can see why,” Hermione says, voice hushed. She turns to Draco. “Where is your section on Charms?”

Draco leads her to the far back wall. On their way, they pass a decent sized window seat with a folded blanket lying next to two throw pillows. Hermione knows exactly where she’s going to be sitting for the foreseeable future.

“I’m going to run down to the kitchen, get us something to drink, if you want to keep looking around.”

Hermione can’t even say anything, she’s still so overwhelmed with happiness. She wonders how long it would take to read every book here. Years, she decides. It rivals Hogwarts’s library, which is crazy to her.

She comes back to herself after a few minutes. She crouches down, studying the books until she finds a small, interesting looking one and pulls it off the shelf. She’s hoping she can finish it before going back tomorrow. Maybe she can ask Draco if she can borrow it… 

While she’s mulling over those thoughts, she situates herself in the window seat she had discovered. She holds her breath as she turns toward the window but, surprisingly, it is warm. Frowning, she presses her hand against the glass. It heats up to match her body temperature. She grins. She wonders what spell it is that makes the glass warm. She pulls the blanket over her legs, situaties herself so she is as comfortable as can be, and then cracks open her book.

She doesn’t know how long it is until Draco is back, carefully carrying two steaming mugs. Hermione is mostly through her book. He gives her a small smile as he approaches. 

“Your library is pretty awesome,” Hermione tells Draco when he is next to her, taking the proffered mug from his hands. She takes a small, suspicious sip as Draco situates himself in the other corner of the window seat, tucking himself into the blanket draped over Hermione’s lap. “Oh, that’s lovely. Is there cinnamon in this hot chocolate?”

Giving Hermione a small, self-satisfied smirk, Draco says, “Among a few other things. My friends practically beg me to make it every time we throw a winter party.”

Hermione rolls her eyes but takes another sip of the drink. Everything around them is quiet, warm. She closes her eyes, leans her head back against the wood casing of the window, breathing in the unique scent of so many books in one place.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, the only sound the pages of a book turning in Draco’s hand, Hermione opens her eyes. The first thing she sees is Draco’s blond hair as his head is bent over his book. She drinks her hot chocolate, watching him unabashedly as he runs his fingers down the page. “Do you do that to keep your place?”

Draco’s head jerks up. Hermione thinks she sees a dusting of pink on his cheeks, and she has never been more happy about the fact that he is so pale. “Yes, I guess so. Force of habit.”

Hermione shrugs. “It’s cute.”

When their eyes meet again, Hermione doesn’t look away from his stunned expression. She just raises her eyebrows over her mug as she takes another swallow. The hot chocolate has cooled down now to a more manageable temperature. If anything, it makes the spices taste better instead of cloying.

“Thank you, I guess,” Draco mutters, still slightly flustered, snapping his book closed, then folding his arms and leaning against his side of the window casing. Hermione reaches over, sets her mug down on the closest table to the window seat. When she settles back into a comfortable position, her leg is pressed flush against Draco’s, her foot grazing the wall and, every once in a while, his outer thigh.

She doesn’t know why it makes her feel so happy to make him flustered like this. It has never been a tactic of flirtation for her before. Maybe it’s seeing someone who is always so composed unraveling at a mere teasing gesture, letting his guard down instead of building up walls, that makes her so giddy.

She blinks. It doesn’t matter, she reminds herself. This is all a sham anyway. All something they are doing to get Draco off the hook from his overbearing parents.”

“When your parents ask, you can tell them we’re still together through the school year, and then when summer comes round, we’ll fake separate. You just have to promise to keep me in the loop. I may be smart, but I can’t read your mind.”

“Thank god,” Draco mutters, then shoots an alarmed glance at Hermione when he realizes he has said it out loud.

Hermione leans forward, a playful smile on her lips as Draco’s cheeks darken. “Oh? Do you have naughty thoughts about me, Mr. Malfoy?”

He struggles into a straighter sitting position. “I’m a teenage boy, of course I have some thoughts about you. We’re supposed to be dating, after all!”

“Hm,” Hermione says, throwing her legs off the side of the window seat. She picks up the book she had been reading and places it on the table next to the mug, then runs her hand through her unruly hair, trying to tame it at least a tiny bit. At the end of the day, it’s kind of a hopeless task. Draco also sits up, and now they’re side-by-side.

Hermione is surprised when she feels Draco’s fingers brush her cheek. “You looked like you had a curl close to your eye,” Draco said simply.

Hermione gave him a small, crooked smile. “This hair is a disaster on good days,” she says.

“I like it.”

She blinks, sure Draco can see the surprise on her face. He smirks. “Now whose turn is it to take who off guard?”

“Still mine,” she says, and tilts her head up and to the side, pressing her lips to Draco’s smirk.

It takes him a few seconds to respond, but soon, he has the hand that had moved her curl deep in her hair, his other hand reaching over to brace himself on her waist. She drapes both of her wrists on his shoulders, stroking at the sensitive skin on the back of his neck. His lips are smooth, wet, and hot. She’s suddenly self-conscious of her chapped lips, which he can probably feel even underneath the lip gloss she had applied after dinner.

She pulls away first, resting her forehead on Draco’s shoulder, trying to get her breathing and her heart rate under control. She feels Draco’s lips ghost over her jaw, nip lightly at her ear, and she can’t help the small giggle that leaves her mouth.

“You’re a good kisser,” Draco says with a smirk.

Hermione tosses her hair behind her shoulder as she sits up fully. “Just because I spend all my time in a library doesn’t mean that I don’t have some real-life experience.”

Draco cocks his head to the side. His sharp eyes bore into her and she feels uncomfortably exposed. “I was just stating a fact, Granger. You hang out with that oblivious famous dunderhead and his even dumber sidekick so I assume you have your pick of boys.”

“You can’t be mean to my friends,” Hermione scolds him lightly, standing up. “They’re a little scattered, but they’re very smart when they want to be. Their priorities just don’t align with yours all the time, and that’s okay. You don’t see me making fun of Crabbe and Goyle.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Please, we all know they’re not the brightest. Anyway, we should get ourselves off to bed. We will have an early morning tomorrow, and then you can be back off to Hogwarts in no time.”

Hermione bites her lip, turning to face Draco as they reach the door of the library. “Oh, yes. You’re staying here then.”

“Yes,” Draco says simply, and Hermione’s chest tightens.

But she pushes aside the strange sense of disappointment, leaning over to kiss Draco’s cheek. “See you in the morning, then. My room’s three down from here on the left, yeah?”

“That’s correct. Happy Christmas Eve.”

“Happy Christmas Eve,” Hermione says, her voice cracking slightly. Embarrassed, she turns away, hurrying down the hallway. She recognizes the room she enters, so she leans against the door and breathes a sigh of relief.

This wasn’t supposed to go this way. Draco was her _enemy_. Well, Draco was Harry’s enemy, but still. She couldn’t just abandon her friends. 

As she goes about her nightly routine she comes to terms with the fact that, in reality, she’s slowly started to make room for Draco in her life for at least the past year.

***

Christmas dawns bright and cold. Hermione shivers as she throws on a big sweater over her leggings, tucking her hands into the sleeves. She slips on her slippers, then shuffles to the bathroom, where she throws her hair up into a big bushy ponytail on top of her head. She digs into her bag for her gifts--a box of expensive chocolates and wine for the Malfoys, bought on a whim at Draco’s suggestion, an assortment of candy for the house-elves, and a tie tack for Draco.

Luckily, she’d already been planning on this gift for Draco, so she wasn’t taken completely off guard with her impromptu invitation to the Manor. Still. She rubs her thumb over the top of the small, wrapped box before placing it on top of the chocolates and making her way down the stairs to the big sitting room with the Christmas tree. She decides it’s probably best to leave the gifts for the house-elves upstairs until the very last moment. She has a feeling no one really celebrates Christmas in this household with them.

Draco is the only one in the room, and Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Happy Christmas,” she says. Draco turns to her, his mouth softening into a happy, small smile that she’s very rarely seen. She can see the sharpness still lingering around the edges of his mouth, but she likes this more genuine, softer version better.

“Happy Christmas,” he says back, taking her proffered gifts and placing them underneath the tree. “My mother is just giving the last of the day's orders to the house-elves, and then we shall open the gifts, eat breakfast, and you can be on your way by noon.”

Hermione smiles and nods. In a way, she’s relieved to get out of this huge, stifling mansion. But she can’t say she isn’t disappointed that Draco isn’t accompanying her back, or that she hasn’t really had time to explore the Manor. She plops down on the ground with a sigh.

“Can I come back and see the gardens when it’s warmer?” Hermione asks. She watches Draco’s hands still for a brief moment where they are rearranging the presents, before beginning again.

“Of course. Personally, they’re my favorite part of the grounds. There’s a very small brook on the edge of the property that I used to play at as a child.”

“That would be very fun,” Hermione starts to answer, but before she can say anything else, Narcissa and Lucius sweep into the room. She snaps her mouth closed.

“How was your rest, dear?” Narcissa asks as she sits in a high-backed chair that looks extremely uncomfortable. Hermione wonders if she should get up on the couch, but Draco sits next to her, his shoulder pressing against hers. “I take it everything was to your liking?”

“Oh, yes, everything was lovely,” she answers. “You have a very gorgeous house.”

“Why thank you,” Narcissa answers, as if Hermione hadn’t defaulted to this answer every time she was left trying to get her bearings. “I heard you would like to visit the gardens sometime. The flowers are lovely over Easter Weekend, if you do not have any plans then.”

“Let’s get ourselves through Christmas first, shall we?” Lucius says with a stiff smile. Hermione gives him a wan smile back before turning to Draco, who has draped his arm over her shoulders.

They round-robin opening their gifts, starting with Lucius and Narcissa. Hermione is relieved that they seem okay with her gift. Draco squeezes her shoulder and gives her a wink when his parents aren't looking.

Draco goes next at Hermione’s insistence, because she only had two gifts to open since she’d left the rest of her presents at Hogwarts for later. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her that Draco saves her gift for last. She holds her breath as he unwraps the paper, then opens the box. He raises his eyes to meet hers.

“Is this a tie tack?” he asks.

Hermione nods, willing her cheeks not to blush. She tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “Yeah. I thought it would be something you could continue to use, even after school.”

“It’s the Draco constellation,” he says. Hermione can’t hide her blush any longer, so she hunches her shoulders, scowling at her small pile of presents.

“I thought that was fitting,” she says.

“It’s lovely,” Narcissa says. As if in agreement, Draco’s arm squeezes her shoulders in a hug.

“Thanks, Granger,” he says.

Hermione goes next. Draco moves his arm away from Hermione’s back, and she shivers with the lack of warmth. The Malfoys give her a beautiful, expensive quill, to which she stammers a guilty thank you, especially when Lucius says, “Everyone should have at least one good quill, especially if that someone is associated with the Malfoys.”

Draco’s is much more noticeably a book. She unwraps it slowly, wondering what it would be.

It’s a beautiful, foil-edged, leather-bound copy of _Spell-Brewed Potions; An Advanced Technique_.

“Oh. I’ve been looking into this for a while, but I have never actually tried it,” Hermione says in awe, running her fingers over the cover.

Draco chuckles. “I didn’t know if you’d tried your hand at it yet or not, but I thought it was a safe bet to assume you hadn’t with everything else you've taken on recently. I can give you some pointers when we get back to the castle.”

Hermione glances up at Draco, who still has that open, warm expression on his face. It’s so alien to her. She likes it much more than his stern, sardonic mask. She reaches up without thinking, then awkwardly pats his cheek when she realizes she was about to lean in for a kiss. Draco smirks at her and winks.

“Well, that was a lovely exchange of gifts,” Narcissa says loudly, startling Hermione back to her present situation. “Shall we share one last meal before we say goodbye? I do wish you could spend a few more days with us, Hermione. We will be sure to schedule a longer visit next time.”

Hermione nods. When they get to the dining room, Draco pulls out her chair as he had the night before, always the perfect gentleman. The food, once again, is delightful. “I need to make sure I give the house-elves their present,” she says to Draco when their meal is complete, not missing the way Lucius’s mouth tightens at her comment. She refuses to back down so, finally, Narcissa smooths over the awkward tension by giving Hermione directions to the kitchen as if she had never been there before, where she could also use the Floo Powder. 

Draco accompanies Hermione up the stairs to her room, where she quickly gathers her small collection of overnight things. Draco leans against the door-frame, watching her with folded arms. It’s quiet between them. A good quiet, Hermione is surprised to find. Not awkward or hurried, just quiet. Hermione finds herself smiling into her bag as she closes it.

“Ready then?” Draco asks, standing upright. Hermione nods, scooping up the basket of treats for the house-elves, then following Draco down the stairs.

They don’t linger long with the house-elves, as they were as leery as Hermione had expected. After their awkward gift giving, Draco pulls down a box of Floo Powder from a high shelf, offering it to Hermione.

“Don’t rush through all those potions without me,” Draco jokes with a smirk. “I want to see who’s the best at brewing the Dreamscape potion.”

Hermione raises her eyebrows. “I think maybe you just want to be in my dreams.”

Draco laughs. “You’re a quick one, Granger. See you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah. See you. Have a good vacation.”

Hermione doesn’t look back as she drops the Floo Powder into the fireplace. She doesn’t look at Draco’s face, because she’s afraid she’ll say something she regrets. She has a week and a few days to get these strange, tangled feelings sorted out.

Why does she always stick up for creatures that can’t stick up for themselves?

***

Hermione spends the rest of Christmas break working with McGonagall and Flitwick on advanced nonverbal spellcasting. She steers clear of the dungeons, even though she’s dying to try out some of the potions in the book Draco gave her.

By the time Christmas break has come to a close, Hermione has read through the potions in her new book at least three times. She’s never really had a particular fascination with them before, but seeing Draco’s excitement when he’d mentioned the Dreamscape potion had made her curious. What was it he saw in potion making that he liked so much? Why was he willing to help her become better, when they were very clearly the two competitors for top of their class? And it wasn’t only Draco; she was eager to show him what she had been learning with the Charms professor, even though he was close to overtaking her there.

She had to face the facts at this point. She was definitely attracted to Draco Malfoy. Of all people. 

Draco beats Harry and Ron to school, showing up in the Great Hall as breakfast is drawing to a close. Hermione had her most recent reading propped up on a jug of orange juice, as usual, trying to decipher the old English.

“You sure do get lost in your own world sometimes,” a familiar voice says, causing her to look up in surprise.

Draco Malfoy had seated himself across from her. He’d even dished himself a whole plate and had started eating, by the looks of things.

Hermione quickly snaps her book shut. “I didn’t know you were coming back so early.”

“Me neither,” Draco says after swallowing his bite of food. “But I found my parents company quite dull after Christmas with you.”

Hermione feels a blush creeping across her face. She refuses to acknowledge it. “Your parents are quite the sticklers. Do they know that I’m…not a Pure-blood?”

Draco nods, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “Of course. They knew instantly. I got a very stern talking to, but they decided to overlook it for the fact that you’re brilliant. My father probably doesn’t acknowledge it at all, to be perfectly honest. My mother likes you a lot, and that’s the only person I really care to have a blessing from.”

“You sound like you think we’re actually in a relationship,” Hermione says, her heart squeezing tightly in her chest.

Draco raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t we, though? I mean, we still have until summer until this fake dating contract runs its course. Why not try out the real thing while we’re here?”

It’s not sound logic, but neither of them seem to care. Hermione just laughs at the flimsy excuse Draco had given her. “Okay, it’s a deal. We’ll try it out for real. But you have to tell Harry and Ron.”

“What? No,” Draco says, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll be tolerable for them, but I certainly won’t be in the habit of making small talk.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione kicks his shin softly under the table. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on together, then. And I’ve been thinking about that Dreamscape potion.”

Draco gives her that same, soft smile he had in the Draco library. It makes Hermione’s heart stutter. She knows that now that they are back at school, where Malfoy has a facade he likes to play, that she won’t see it as often, but she decides from then on that she’s going to make it her mission to crack that mask until it’s just dust and the real Draco shines through. She thinks maybe she has a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos always welcome!
> 
> I literally never come here, but my socials are in my profile if you're interested in anime and Haikyuu!! I will also scream with you about HP if you wanna send me an ask or dm, I just don't usually post about it lol.


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